


When I First Met You There Was A Garden

by arcticmalum



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Luke, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Top Michael, commoner!luke, noble!ashton, prince!michael, royal!calum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcticmalum/pseuds/arcticmalum
Summary: "He's only shy around you because of your title, your highness." Ashton adds a mocking emphasis to those last two words and keeps his eyes glued to the timid blonde struggling to move from where he stood, looking like he just saw a ghost, yet despite his fear those blue eyes were gorgeous, even from a distance.The prince's lips curl at his impact on the boy, "It's marvelous isn't it?" Michael's watching him, staring from across the garden at the way Luke was intimidated by his power.orMichael's a royal prince who's fascinated by Luke, who tends to the castle garden





	1. hydrangeas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> work title from garden by halsey! enjoy :)

The sun was peeking through the branches of the willow tree he sat under, a book in his lap opened up to just past the halfway point as Ashton, his personal tutor on literature, rambled about some allusion and how it connects to whatever-the-fuck but he couldn't focus. He was in a daze, his hectic mind swarming with the cockiness he feels every time he hears anyone address him officially. He had power, lots of it. Every person in this kingdom (besides his parents) have to bow their heads and call him your grace, your majesty, and his favorite- your highness. He loves it. He feeds off of it. His mind is swelling with arrogance by the time he is pulled back into conversation.

"It's a beautiful story, when you think of it, don't you think?" Ashton's a scholar, a high one at that. He carries journals and books, writing and reading whenever he has the time to and he lives for the words poets before him have written, thrives off of inspiration from anyone and anything interesting.

Michael wasn't paying attention to the book, he hasn't glanced at anything past the cover, nonetheless, he grinned, "Yes, it's the best one we've read so far." He dusted off his slacks, dressed in his casual princely wear his mother and father strictly keep him in. A white button down, beige slacks, and dress shoes. It makes him want to light a match and throw his clothes into it, but it gives him a friendly and respectful appearance which is what his mother said he needs.

Apparently his attitude and persona towards the public is, quote unquote, too harsh and alarming. He refuses to think of anyone but himself and it's not a huge shocker since his father is just like him, but he has his selfless mother to even out the negative with the positive.

It's not his fault his royalty was taught to him by his dad who's the strictest king to rule any land, he thinks for the hierarchy but only acts on those who are at the top of it, peasants are abandoned and nobles are stuck in between. He was taught to value war instead of peace, to crave rules and enforce them entirely upon each and every person who steps foot on their land.

Ashton's hands are clasping the book shut and sighing a blissful sigh, "Those five chapters being finished means my time with you for today is up, your highness." He's beginning to chuck the book into his bag with the others he carries around when Michael smirks at the official name bestowed upon him, his eyes glowing with devious joy hearing his authority be reminded to him so casually.

"It appears so." He glances around the garden, "Tell my parents I'm staying here when you're on your way out."

A bow of the curly head of hair standing in front of him and the crunch of twigs and stray leaves in the mix of all the grass of the garden signified his tutor stumbling off to his own home, "Yes, your highness." He's muttering it as a goodbye while the gate to the garden closes and leaves him in the backyard of the castle.

He leaned his head against the strong trunk of the tree, breathing the gentle spring air that melted away his stress with each exhale. His amber eyes shut in relaxation as he took his worries and shoved them far behind while he was here. The garden was a rare place for him to be, an odd hideout that no one really uses anymore. He had barely stepped foot in it in his eighteen years of living in the castle since he was born, he probably only stepped in it five times- this being the sixth throughout all those years.

There's bushes arranged in a maze of beauty, trimmed to perfection, a fountain at the center far off to his right which he can hear running smoothly, he found out they had flowers in here too, a variety of roses, daffodils, hydrangeas, infinite daisies and so many peonies. He can't even list everything growing in this garden but he knows it's an impressive bunch.

Birds chirp and butterflies flutter around him, a few bunnies hop and pounce around through the bushes in glee as he just sits and rests.

In the distance a gate opens and shuts gently, creaking slowly as he makes no intent to move and expects it to be one of his parents on their way over here to shoo him off to a lesson he forgot about or a meeting he must attend to try and at least act like he has a good reputation. There's a laugh, soft and barely audible, followed by the sound of feet stepping around the garden.

Michael's eyes open, expecting to see someone in the area but finds himself squinting in confusion. No one's in sight, he feels like an idiot, hallucinating things beyond belief, daydreaming silly laughs in his mind. It was a nice laugh.

He shakes his head, going to lean back against the bark when he hears the giggle again, this time it's squeakier and now he's definitely going insane. Rising fast to his feet he starts following the sound, prepared to yell for a guard at any moment because he swears someone must've snuck in, someone had to have jumped past the castle wall and wandered into the private garden. His feet are careful not to step on any leaves or twigs, eyeing every nook and cranny of the garden as he's taking slow cautious steps with eyes shooting daggers at anything that moves.

He has no hesitation in throwing someone into one of the grimy cells in the prison for entering past the castle walls without permission, he could even pull out the guillotine and give the town a nice show, they haven't lugged that machine out in a few weeks.

The laughing grows louder when he finds himself searching the bushes, a youthful giggle that is close to something heavenly has Michael pausing, his eyes peering over the neatly trimmed bush on his right to see a boy around his age, pale and smiling as he holds one of the bunnies on his lap, it's fluffy beige fur getting pet by the boy's one hand as the other was holding out a fresh strawberry for it to eat. Michael isn't sure who he is, or where he came from, his green eyes observing every movement that the blonde (very blonde, stunningly so) made. He was fair skinned, glowing under the sun's rays as he scrunched his petite button nose at the bunny who did the same as it ate. Michael checks his clothes, a plain white shirt and baggy black trousers, on his feet, worn down slip on's.

When it's official that Michael doesn't see him as a threat, he clears his throat to make his presence known, the bunny scurrying away at the sudden noise and hopped quickly into a bush on the other side of the maze. He expects the blonde to turn around immediately but he's too busy watching the fluffy creature leave, "Why would you do that? You scared the bunny." He's angry now, but not in an aggressive way, his hand putting the half eaten strawberry down onto the ground where a mound of fruit is piled in a pouch for easy carrying.

The boy is turning his head, hands in his lap as he spins and faces the prince. His lips part in shock, "My apologies, your grace." He's rushing to stand now, stumbling on long legs that were close to resembling those of a newborn fawn, he's abandoning his berries on the ground and shaking his head.

Blue. That's all Michael sees.

His eyes were so bright and they looked so youthful and innocent, he held so much frailty and delicateness behind those vibrant blue eyes. They matched the color of Michael's favorite lake in the kingdom, the clear blue almost striking him hard enough to forget what he was doing but soon, he was shaking those thoughts off his mind and grew serious, blinking a couple times to try and get the picture of those eyes out of his mind as he glanced at the boy from head to toe.

"Who are you and why are you in my garden?" He's tough now, frighteningly so, strict just like his father and the impact in his tone is shown when the blonde cowers and bows his head apologetically.

"I'm Luke, I tend to the flowers in your garden, your grace. I have been for months." He's scared to look him in the eyes now, backing up as he hears Michael start to step around the corner so they're no longer separated by a line of bushes. Now he can see him up close and he's suddenly extremely fascinated by this boy's features. He has freckles, but they are just barely visible, scattered across his nose and cheeks. Pink lips, as pink as the Poudretteite gemstones in the castle jewel vault. He's unlike any other boy he's seen in this castle, if he had been working here for as long as he says, Michael is sure he would've remembered that face.

"You feed the bunnies as well, I assume?" Michael's smirking wide now, basking in the fact he's got him flustered and anxious, the flower boy shakes his head to his surprise, "N-Not officially, your majesty." He's taking a step back again, yet his heels bump against the back of the royal fountain, stuck in place as he finally peers back up to meet the eyes of the prince.

Michael's blood was on fire now, burning through his veins as he catches a glimpse of those eyes again. He doesn't speak, for the flower boy adds onto his statement again.

"I need to begin my work now, your highness."

The prince tilts his head to the side, "You didn't seem to be in a rush to start before?" He acts astonished at what this boy was telling him, raising his eyebrows in question to feign confusion.

"That was before I knew you were in here," He's answered him with a flushed face of fear when he realizes what he forgot to say, "Your grace." He sputters it out in time to see Michael give a look of praise as if he was a dog who learned a new trick and smiled at the name bestowed to him.

"Do you ever do your job then?" He was being crude at this point, gazing around the premises in attempt to find some faulty error in the flowers or set up but he's no expert and everything appears to be perfectly fine from his perspective. There's a bird flying down and pecking at the berries Luke abandoned and he lets the canary steal a few bites.

"Daily, your highness." He's quiet when he speaks, quieter than before, his lips are narrowing into a nervous smile, a dimple indenting his left cheek as he awaits anything close to a smile from Michael, something to show he wasn't the strict prince they all make him out to be. Luke overheard some of the nurses conversing about how bad he treated them and the way he scolded them for every minor detail gone wrong.

The gate creaked open and their heads whipped to stare at the entrance, his mother, the queen, watching with a straight face as she observed the two who appeared to have met, "Care to explain why your desk is stacked full of letters you have yet to read and reply to, Michael?" She's shooting him a crossed expression, her velvety gown frilling from the breeze that blew by.

The prince rolled his eyes, sluggishly ruffling his hair and exiting through the middle of the bushes to meet his mother at the entrance, her eyes glued on Luke, his head bowed down to hide his fear and also to give the proper greeting to the queen, his hands fumbling in front of him as her son spoke up curtly, "Flower boy has been slacking on the job."

The blonde's head shoots up at his words, lips parting to defend himself before clamping his mouth shut. Talking back to royalty is like asking for a death wish. He's better off hiding his anger behind his surprise and biting his tongue back from all the comments he can say about Michael and his personality.

"The garden looks wonderful, Luke." The queen smiles graciously in spite of what her son told her, she gives him a compliment on his hard work and his cheeks go pink. Michael's perplexed look appearing because the fact she knew his name off the top of her head was surprising but then again, she tries her best to remember every worker in the castle whereas Michael tends to only worry about those he likes the most.

"Thank you, your majesty." He bashfully stares at the grass, his bottom lip going between his teeth as he feels eyes on him at the same time heels are clicking away until they're no longer heard anymore, nothing but a faint echo as she heads down the halls of the castle.

When he musters up the strength to peer his head back up Michael is gone and so is his mother, his feet picking up the pace as he moves over to where he starts his work and begins his duties of keeping the flowers alive and well. His stress starting to rise higher as he worries that Michael may check that he's doing his work correctly and well enough to keep him from getting fired.

-

It's a silly thing to do- Michael's well aware he looks absolutely bonkers as he stands on his balcony and watches the blonde boy tend to the garden. He's gone way too far with this, it's been four days and he can't stop peering over the ledge of his balcony and just stares at Luke, who seems unaware that he's doing such an absurd thing. A list of things he should be doing was left to collect dust on his work desk and he's been studying the way Luke waters the hydrangeas for twelve minutes now. It's not interesting, but the flower boy makes it seem that it is.

Within his observations Michael has learned a few things. One, Luke brings different snacks for the garden bunnies daily, ranging from peanuts and cashews all the way down to celery and basil leaves. Two, he never wastes his time, though he may play with the bunnies and admire the roses that are blooming so well, he's always doing something considerably important until his work day ends. And three, Luke has a very strong love for his job.

"Your grace," Ashton is at the door, stood in his regular everyday clothes, his messy curls all astray on his head as he holds out three books stacked on top of each other, "Are you ready for today's lesson?"

Michael also assigned himself three extra lessons with Ashton just so he could get back into the garden again, he's sure his tutor won't mind. He just needs to keep an eye on that flower boy, not in a bad way, in a protective way. He yearns for him unlike any other person he's met in his kingdom.

"I sure am," Michael's dressed in a much more formal outfit today due to his father claiming he needed a new suit and now he's stuck wearing one that was tailored to fit him this morning. It was a deep scarlet red, gold epaulets resting on his shoulders as he had his sash fall from his shoulder down to the opposite hip, he couldn't feel his feet in his tight dress shoes and the crown on his head is heavy and annoying. He sucks it up, keeps his chin perked high, and follows Ashton around the castle.

The hallways were long and wide, decorated with oil paintings and antique relics from the many allies they had, vases and such that were irreplaceable and priceless. Michael remembers accidentally knocking over a fancy piece of fine china when he was six and got scorned and disciplined for days on end for breaking something so special and unique. He learned very fast not to linger around the halls that held those gifts.

He's steering the corner to turn down the hallway which leads to the garden and smiles seeing the glass door at the far end of the hall.

"Excited today, are we?" His tutor holds the door open for him and they walk down the stone path that heads off to the gate of the garden, trees scattered on the sides of the path as they walk in sync.

Michael smirks, "Very." He's not gonna mention the root of his excitement is because of the flower boy he's dying to talk to again. He just lets himself into the garden and towards the willow tree that he's growing to like as a nice hideaway. There's the sound of running water and even fainter hums hidden behind it, he's smirking when he spots Luke crouched down to plant some form of purple flowers.

"Pride and Prejudice, chapter thirty." A book is handed to him and the lesson begins as soon as they crouch by the tree, Michael's eyes hidden behind the book to appear to be reading along to Ashton who's voicing the novel out loud when in reality, he keeps an eye on the blonde over on the far end of the garden.

He's alluring, Michael finally finds the right word to describe him, his lips quirking up in interest as he notices the delicate touch of the blonde's fingertips across the rose bush, feeling the petals of the deep red flowers before scrawling something down in a journal lying on his lap.

"So, Mr. Darcy starts things off politely by asking how Elizabeth's family is doing, so Lizzy jolts him by asking if he's had the opportunity to see Jane who has been in London for three months. Obviously she knows he hasn't, she's just trying to see if he knows that she's been in town." Ashton's summing up the chapter as his eyes scan the pages, flipping past a few as he explains things to a very oblivious Michael. His tutor raises a brow at him and stops his discussion with the book to follow the prince's gaze, snorting in amusement at the fact he's looking at the gardener.

"Luke's pretty isn't he?" The curly haired lad shuts his book after marking the page, voice lighthearted as he lets his body sit down beside Michael, who flinches at the remark, unaware of how obvious he was with his stare. Those amber eyes left from the flower boy in favor of apprehensively eyeing his tutor, "You know him?"

Ashton smiled, "Who doesn't? He's the town sweetheart, practically radiates positivity." They both watched as Luke shut his journal and moved onto the next patch of flowers to write notes on, "He gives everyone these bouquets of different flowers for any occasion- birthdays, marriages, anything he feels is worthy of some roses or lilies."

"He's shy, yeah?" Michael loses sight of the boy behind a bush and has to lift his head up high, stretching his neck to see the faintest tuft of blonde fringe on his face. There's a shrug from Ashton, "Not around town, he's always cheerful."

That's when Michael smirks, the moment he sees Luke stand from his spot and holds his book tight to his chest, his feet shuffling down the long line of various flowers but nearly jumped out of his skin when he makes eye contact with both of the boys watching him from across the garden.

"He's only shy around you because of your title, _your highness_." Ashton adds a mocking emphasis to those last two words and keeps his eyes glued to the timid blonde struggling to move from where he stood, looking like he just saw a ghost, yet despite his fear those blue eyes were gorgeous even from a distance and the prince's lips curl at his impact on the boy, "It's marvelous isn't it?" Michael's watching him, staring from across the garden at the way Luke was intimidated by his power.

Ashton shakes his head, "I can't relate to it myself, but I'd imagine it to be." He's not rated a high title, he's a tutor, he teaches people about literature, he's not royal blood.

Michael's hand raises up just high enough to be noticeable from over the bush Luke stood behind, he brought two fingers gesturing for him to come closer, the demand being followed instantly as the blonde scrambles to move with his head down and his hands in front of him clasped together. He was in front of them in seconds, those blue eyes staring at the prince's feet crossed at the ankles from where he's sitting against the tree.

"Sit." He commands.

"Y-Yes, your majesty." The blonde lands on the grass with a soft thump, his knees on the ground as he holds both hands against his lap for dear life.

The two much higher titled boys, Ashton and Michael, exchange looks. The prince is devilishly smiling, bragging through his eyes at the way he gets Luke to listen, the tutor's own face stifling back his amusement as his thumb runs against his bottom lip, fighting back a smile and laugh.

Michael piques a brow, "Ashton, can we raincheck this lesson to tomorrow?" It's not a question, he's making him leave and it works when the curly haired boy rushes out a sure and shuffles things back into his bag before stepping out of their way and back into the castle.

Without hesitation a warm hand lands onto Luke's knee and gets him to shoot his head up with wide eyes, aghast at the gesture as he feels his body flush with heat. The prince flashes him a confident smile, "I want you to look at me when we speak." He addresses him with as friendly of an aura he can muster, his tone is still sharp and strict but he's touching the blonde's knee and he has chills, unable to breathe, unable to blink.

He can't will himself to speak, only nods in reply.

"Do you like your job, Luke?" He says his name for the first time, and the blonde blushes furiously in his cheeks, "I love it, your grace."

There's a moment, a brief pause, before the prince speaks, he admires the patience this boy has, "Is there anything you'd like done to improve your experience here?" He leans in, but only to read the blonde's face because he's trailing his eyes down again, blue eyes glued to his knee that still has Michael's hand on it. Flower boy raises his head fast and full of worry as he feels tested and interrogated, "N-No, your majesty, everything is how I like it." He whispers it out in a hurry.

The glint in his green eyes twinkle against the sun's rays, his pearly white teeth sparkle as he smiles, "There's nothing you want? More space, more flowers, more rabbits?" He's closer now, close enough so his breath fans against the blonde's face and he can feel his head go woozy with ease, he lets a wave of relief wash over him, drawn into the way Michael is talking so softly to him.

"More space would be nice." He decides slowly, blinking as the sun finds it's way through the leaves momentarily and hits his eyes. Those pink lips are being pursed as he watches the subtly of how kind Michael was being right now, he was so enticed he didn't even realize he forgot to add on his official title.

"Hm," Michael hums in thought, trailing it off as his free hand dances up to Luke's face to cup his cheek, the blonde going paler by the second as his hands still fumbling in his lap go clammy and tremble ever so slightly under the tension.

"You see," He starts after observing Luke's behavior, "I, myself, prefer a little _less_ space." His head leans down further so he can gently brush their noses together, he can hear the blonde's breathing hitch, his thumb brushes across the apple of the boy's cheek and watches the way Luke blushes against his touch.

Without thinking he presses their lips together, creating an all too overwhelming reaction when the blonde instantly tenses at the feeling, his hands once in his lap go to the closest thing for a grip, clutching the hand resting on his knee, blunt nails anchoring into his skin as Luke's mind tries not to race so fast but they're kissing, their lips are touching and he can taste the honey on his lips he can feel the soft touch and he's melting, absolutely melting underneath Michael.

There wasn't any space between them, Michael makes sure to lean the boy back further, gently levering them so the blonde lies down in the grass and he hovers above him with the power he's used to, he can feel the way Luke's lips start to move against his, slowly but passionately, he's shy about it, too.

They pull away slowly, everything so much brighter in their minds as they let their lips once intertwined release and their eyes meet, Michael smirks, "I can give you more space for the garden, flower boy."

And he did. He was expanding it across the back of the castle the next day as he had ordered a couple workers to do, they were adding another fountain and putting the fence around the new half. It was a large land of beautiful grass and soon to be beautiful flowers, it's too much to handle and Luke is constantly trying to find the prince when he's in private to thank him for the gift but he's nowhere whenever he looks. He doesn't have a high enough ranking in the employed list to go up to his room, that's strictly maids and his parents. He's just the gardener. He decides that he'll wait for him to come to the garden, seeing as he did visit often now with Ashton for his classes.

There's not much he can do except wait around and plant new flowers, he's on his knees piling a sturdy set of dirt around a newly planted hydrangea bush that he got at the market this morning when he hears a muffled conversation and instantly feels the same tingling excitement from last week bubble in his stomach.

He's glancing at the gate waiting for it to open but instantly feels his heart lurch in fear at the king entering instead, he's tall and intimidating even though he put on his most generous look. An expression of anger was still present behind his barely noticeable smile.

"Are you Luke?" He's talking to him from across the yard, he had two other royal figures (visiting allies probably) at his sides, they're gaping at the boy's garden and whispering as they talk about all the flowers and the fountains and now his cheeks are burning red as he answers to the king, "Yes, your highness." His head is bowed down, still sitting on the grass and carefully reminding himself not to cross the line with the man in the garden. He's strict, terrifyingly so. He fired the last gardener because she didn't plant roses that were red enough for his liking.

He's a mean leader and everyone knows it, very little admit it, even less to his face, Luke has heard of townspeople planning to assassinate him once or twice and he's not exactly going to comment on his thoughts of that happening.

"My son would like to speak with you in his room immediately, wash up and let a maid lead you to him." He's gone from his garden in seconds, the flower boy is flushed white with fear now and he's parting his lips to ask if he's done with work for today but the gate clicks shut and he's out of hearing distance.

There's a laugh from the air and his heart skips more than one beat when he shoots his head up in the direction of the laugh to be met with Michael on his balcony, he's watching him. He has been, for how long? Luke doesn't know.

The prince is in his formal attire, his crown on his head as he stays leaning over to look at a very frightened flower boy with crystalline blue eyes that glow at the sight of him.

While rising to his feet Luke stares at the ground and smiles to himself, he's requested him. In his room. It's not common for that. It's one of the rarest things to hear as an order and he's scurrying off to wash his hands when the realization strikes- he has no idea what Michael would possibly want to see him for.

The kiss happened over a week ago. They haven't spoken or seen each other since. Something like that was expected, it's not every day that royalty comes onto you and kisses you in the garden then leaves you to overthink the entire situation that played out over and over.

He loved the kiss, he tasted so sweet and he felt so nice, they were so serene and peaceful that he just felt the urge to do it again and again. He wants to kiss Michael more. He can't stop himself from rushing out of his small work station, drying his hands and scrambling over to the maid who gave him a timid smile and a short nod to signify to follow her.

Castles in general were glamorous but Luke's only seen the first floor (not even all of it either) so the second floor blew him off his feet, oil paintings of the royal family from decades back, Michael's was the most recent one and he looked as austere as could be, straight faced in the painting as he laid back in his throne assertively, the crown on his head in the painting is the same one he was wearing today.

The sound of a door creaking open made him turn his head to look at the maid in surprise, they're already here. He has to go in. His breathing hitched and his eyes took in the small bit of the room exposed from her holding open the door, it's officially bigger than his entire house. He's not sure if he's supposed to enter yet but there's a hand shooting out from the girl's side to wordlessly tell him to go in and his feet step into the space only to feel the tension thicken the second the door shuts loudly and Michael stood with a smirk.

His bedroom was just as classy as one would imagine, full king sized bed with multiple throw pillows and white silk covers, there's a work desk in the corner hand carved to perfection, his own closet was attached as a separate room and he has a perfect overlook into the entire back of the garden and the kingdom from his balcony. There's a chandelier of gold hanging above their heads and the wooden floor is polished and clean with zero dust whatsoever.

"I'm happy to see you, Luke." The prince is putting both hands behind his back and ambling forward, the gold of his crown glimmers against the lights and the flower boy gulps, "It's nice to see you too, your highness." He observes the room some more while he's in here, the people back home would be dying to know what it's like in the prince's bedroom. So grand and exquisite.

"Thank you for more space in the garden, your grace." He decides he should be thanking him for what he's done and makes sure he looks the prince in the eyes as he says it. He notices the man tweak the corner of his lips up in a grin, "Of course." He's not fully smiling, but it's the kindest he's ever seen him, "I sent you up here for a request."

Luke swallows thickly, eyes blinking a few times to try and calm down when all he sees is Michael stepping closer. His mind blanks on a response but the prince doesn't seem to care since he adds onto his sentence lowly, "I have thirty minutes before I have to go to lunch," A hand finds the dip in his back and his chest goes flush against the prince's, he stammers, "Y-Your grace-"

"Did you miss my presence?" He speaks in a slow fan of a breath, hooded ivy eyes gaze at the blonde, "My touch?" He trails both hands to his sides and smooths them down to his hips, "My kiss?" He lets their foreheads meet and their noses bump subtly, his lips are so close but not close enough, Luke can't feel his hands, but he can definitely feel Michael's.

"I did, your grace." He tilts his head up to try and get his lips on his but Michael is still too tall for him, so the prince luckily obliges and dips his head down for a kiss, slow but passionate as his movements turn the blonde towards his bed and he's falling into soft silk and it smells like lavender and. . .rose petals. His heart aches and tugs to be closer to the prince and lets his hands finally find his shoulders, pulling him down so his body is closer than before. He can't maintain control for long, especially when Michael's lips pull away from his almost to remind him he won't get what he wants.

Those deep green eyes flash a wave of lust and he growls at the sight of an out of breath flower boy beneath him, those pretty pink lips of his part open as his eyelashes flutter and his hair stays a mess, "You're stunning," The prince murmurs, "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"No, your majesty. Only you." Luke's cheeks flush red at the same time his words fuel Michael's confidence, smirking at the boy under him, "Call me that again." His teeth rake over his bottom lip and dips his head down until he can bite on the blonde's neck to leave a hickey on the porcelain skin.

"Y-Your majesty." He's tilting his head as he lets his words hit the prince's ears, evoking a moan from a very lust driven Michael. His hands bury into the tufts of blonde hair on the prince's head, gasping at the pleasure he managed to stir up inside of him.

It's insane how much confidence instills inside of Michael anytime Luke calls him by one of his titles, because everyone within his kingdom has to call him by those names every single day since he was born but the second it tumbles off of the blonde's innocent lips during such a filthy setting, his mind goes haywire and his confidence skyrockets.

Luke's fingers tangled in the prince's hair bump against metal and his hand finds the crown atop Michael's head, pure gold molded into symmetrical perfection with the finest jewels arranged on it's exterior. He gets his attention and Michael pulls back, partially admiring his work on the boy's chest and partially amused at the blonde's fascination with his crown.

"You like my crown, hm?" He grins down at Luke, the blonde's fingertips swirl around one of the silver gems, "Flowers would look much prettier in your hair." The blonde whispers it to him, blue eyes meeting his for the first time since they had started to kiss.

Michael's grin molds into a smile, a rare sight for anyone to see, the cold-hearted prince smiling so purely and so effortlessly that all Luke manages to do is smile back, his blue eyes shining and glistening like the jewels on his crown.

"You have a beautiful smile, your highness." Luke cups the prince's cheek, his thumb runs over his smooth skin and studies the way his words create an instant blush creeping onto his ivory skin, "You can call me Michael."

-

The rush of townsfolk is what draws Luke's attention from his bedroom window, the quaint neighborhood of his never surpassed a light buzz of excitement, this type of bustling was uncalled for and almost worrying. They were all talking as they rushed down towards the castle, his own eyes following their route as he sees nearly every person in the kingdom make their way up the streets and paths towards the castle.

Slipping shoes onto his feet, the blonde pads his way out of his house, a cottage of sorts, his mum still asleep as she and her husband share a bed, he lets them sleep and figures if anything important happens while he's out he'll tell them when they have woken up.

He shuts the door and follows the crowd, picking up bits and pieces on what the gathering is about, a woman not too far apart from him explaining something about the king's new decree and how he's acclaimed to have declared war on an opposing kingdom up North. He eavesdrops some more and learns that the fuss of the situation is all because the prince had given the decree. Michael started a war with the land up North.

"He's too young to be making choices for the land, my son has to leave so soon because of that damned prince. Why I oughta-" She never finishes her sentence and Luke nervously picks up his pace, not living far from the castle due to work comes in handy but the crowd makes the walk there strenuous and takes longer than usual, they've blocked off the gates to the castle and guards stand tall to prevent anyone from passing, Luke's far into the crowd but close enough that he can see what's happening on the tallest balcony of the castle.

The king is shouting to all of the townsfolk, talking complete nonsense that Luke doesn't understand since it's about war and military, terms he's never heard of fall from the king's lips and the blonde can't do much except watch as Michael stands a few steps behind his father, full princely get-up adorned on his body as his face remains cold and sharp, jaw obviously clenched even from a distance.

Luke has barely had a conversation with the prince since their discussion (or lack of one) in the royal bedroom, he's unsure if what he had done was wrong or if Michael just wants him to go slowly insane by the silent treatment he's been getting. Because Michael's been in the garden nearly every day, Ashton's tutoring sessions becoming a common ritual that happens every few days while on the days he's not in the garden he's observing Luke from above it on his balcony while his advisor lists his agenda and tailors sew his clothes.

"By the prince's decree, we are expected to declare a war between the Northern kingdoms, recruits and volunteers are to be notified immediately and sent to their stations by the end of the month, we thank you for your patience and attentiveness in this impromptu declaration." The king finishes his statement with a curt nod and the crowd is shouting over what he just said, already beginning to disperse back to their accustomed places the moment the king and prince disappear back into the castle.

Luke takes the lack of a crowd reason enough for him to stride towards the gates, known well enough as a worker of the castle as he slips through the gate thanks to a guard, his feet shuffling through the foyer and down the hall he knows involuntarily by now, his garden still in perfect shape as it was yesterday, he figures he'll start work early this morning and takes his journal off the shelf in his small station, a handful of berries, and strides through the pristine entrance of the garden.

He hadn't picked out names for any of the bunnies that choose to pounce throughout the maze of bushes, but he decides he can save that for sometime soon and shares his breakfast of raspberries and blueberries with one of the beige bunny friends of his.

His notes of progress between the new and old sets of flowers is ever-growing, much like the seeds planted for the new season and he's more than happy of the little sprouting leaves showing through the rich soil.

When the familiar sound of the prince's balcony door creaking open hits his ears, he peers his head up and watches the dirty blonde furiously take the crown off his head and shove it into his father's chest, the king's stature only toughening as he grasps the crown and broadens his shoulders, a murmur of his words unable to be picked up in Luke's ears as he watches Michael spin around and grasp the railing with tense hands, gritting his teeth as he replies.

He looks across the landscape until he catches sight of Luke below him, going stoic with his movements, all he manages to do is bore his eyes into the very aghast blonde below him, barely even blinking as he takes in the sight of how Luke just saw what he did and his knuckles burn white from how strong his grip is on the balcony. Something his dad says makes him zone back into reality and shake his head in disapproval.

The blonde is in a state of shock when he sees the exchange come to an end, the prince's eyes shutting while the king leaves him to be alone for now, the balcony doors shutting softly as a sign he was gone and out of earshot, Michael's dark green eyes open and he shifts his gaze upon Luke. His face barely works up a smile when the flower boy makes a motion for him to come down and see him, his hand raising from the railing once and for all to put his index finger up and tell him to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay... so i started writing this earlier this month and i knOW I SHOULD BE WORKING ON MY THREE OTHER FICS BUt this au has me hooked... leave some feedback and kudos pls <333


	2. dandelions

Luke does wait, his hands fumbling in his lap to try and keep himself occupied for the time being. The prince had disappeared back into the castle well over ten minutes after he made that motion and he wouldn't be so worried if he hadn't looked so angry. He can't even fathom what his father must've told him, but it must've been horrible because when Michael finally arrives he shuts the garden gate aggressively and curses at it when it doesn't function properly.

"What's wrong?" The blonde is the first to start conversation, he's in the middle of the garden's many hedges and bushes, the elaborate water fountain directly to his right as he feeds a bunny one of his last few raspberries. The twigs and leaves crunch under Michael's feet and his body strides towards the center of the maze as he grumbles a reply, "Royal bullshit, can't even breathe without my dad telling me I'm doing it wrong." His eyes are intensely green and swarm with rage, he looks terrifying and if he hadn't've been an acquaintance of his and only an employee, Luke would've cowered. But he stays sincere and only juts his bottom lip out in a pout.

The prince kicks a stray pebble and drops himself beside the blonde, using the side of the marble fountain to lay his back against it and sigh, "I don't want to start any war with anyone, my dad does, he made me pretend to start it so he won't get any backlash and I will." Without thinking the prince lays his head against the blonde's shoulder in defeat.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Luke leers another bunny out of the bushes and lets the fluffy little thing nibble on a blueberry in his hand. It's white fur with black spots makes him smile gently down at it and pets it appreciatively.

"Just keep being you, it calms me down." His confession is barely above a whisper and the blonde grows flustered at his words, he ducks his head down to hide the vermillion blush on his cheeks and places the blueberry on the ground for the bunny to eat. His hands lever to the ground and help himself stand, shuffling towards his patches of flowers as Michael calls his name and asks him what he's doing.

"It's a surprise." The boy responds from the distance, his feet padding around the grass as little hmphs fall from his lips every once in awhile until he comes ambling back with a variety of flowers in his hands. Roses, daisies, buttercups, carnations, and other ones that Michael doesn't even know the names of.

Before he gets the chance to ask what he plans on doing the blonde brings himself down so he can sit on his lap, giggling as he faces the prince and smiles, "Can I make you a crown?" He references to a flower crown, not an official royal one that weighs heavily on his head or is made purely of gold. The thought of something so simplistic being worn on his head makes him nod, "Of course."

They sit in the serenity of the garden, the only sound being the water running from the fountain, birds chirping and tweeting in this early morning sky above them, and Luke's meek laughs in between the two of them. His fingers nimbly and skillfully bunch flowers into a train of beautiful stems, leaves, and petals. The prince keeps one hand resting on Luke's side while his other hand stays on his thigh, showing no sign of moving the boy off of his lap.

They bask under the warm sun and listen to the trees rustle when Luke proudly shows the string of flowers in a perfect circle, placing the flower crown on the top of Michael's head, it's shape warping to fit in his fringe as a couple petals fall from some flowers and mix into his hair.

"How do I look?" The prince can't see it himself but the look on the flower boy's face seals the deal and tells him no matter how bad or utterly embarrassing to his masculinity this is, it's far more than worth it to see Luke's smiling face.

"Beautiful." The blonde adjusts it in the slightest then drops his hand onto their shoulder to maintain some balance, "It makes the green in your eyes pop." He sweeps his thumb under his eye for emphasis and sheepishly grins, his stomach is a mess of butterflies and he can't stop them.

"I like your eyes," Luke admits it without thinking, "They're always bright, even when I had never spoken to you and you always scared me, your eyes were beautiful to me." Gushing about it resulted in a chuckle from the prince who had to tilt his head back to laugh and only died down when his infamous smirk crawls onto his lips.

"You were scared of me?" He pretends to not have known the way Luke would freeze and go tense every time he'd step foot in the garden, how he absolutely dropped dead with fear whenever Michael would call for him to do something.

"Who isn't?" Luke mumbles it but the prince still heard his rhetorical question, everyone is downright petrified of _prince Michael_ , the carbon copy of his strict overruling father, he fires people just because and refuses to help the poor. He mastered the austere face his father still shows the kingdom and now he uses it too.

"You aren't. Not anymore." Michael's face breaks out of his smirk and smiles, his eyes crinkle at the corners and his teeth flash a stunning bright white, he has a gorgeous smile. Luke wonders why he doesn't show anyone how beautiful it is. The prince lets his forehead rest against the blonde's, "You're one of the few who can address me as my name and not a title."

"I'm honored." The blonde teases playfully, bumping his nose against Michael's, tilting his head to the side so he can place a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment as he hears an appreciative moan from the man he's with. The spring breeze whirls around them, his pale hands link behind his neck and Michael breaks the kiss to place open-mouthed kisses down the blonde's neck.

"Your majesty, the queen requests you in the dining hall for-" The person who interrupted them is Ashton, when he notices the prince and his situation he bows, "My apologies, your highness."

"Tell my mum I'm busy, but don't tell her what you saw or you're fired." Michael snaps at him from across the yard and Luke chooses to hide his face by staring down at his lap, he can't help but worry about the rumors that could spread. How risky it is to be caught kissing the prince as someone so lowly born in their hierarchy.

"Are those flowers? In your hair?" Ashton's asking him from the gate of the garden and all that the prince does is nod, "Yes, now go, you're not needed here. I'll be there in a minute." His words are sharp but the blonde is giggling at how hard it is to take him seriously with roses and daisies in his hair.

"As you wish, your grace." Ashton leaves, unsure of what he just saw or what he had walked in on. The faint noise of kissing should've been sign enough not to enter, but what does he do? Enters.

To try and bring back the mood they had set earlier, Luke kisses Michael deeply, his whole body burning under his touch, especially when the prince decides to lower him into the grass just like their first kiss but this time raunchier, they use tongue and teeth and it's purely raw. Luke's hands are lost on where to touch Michael before he's doing it for him, those devious green eyes blink down at him and the flowers in his hair contrast to his power, his control. He's a mix of beauty and dominance.

He's a prince with a strict persona who doesn't give a fuck about most people in this kingdom, he starts wars, he creates outrage and chaos, he's nothing but anger and ferocity morphed into a human being. He scares kids by the way he looks at them, beheads those who don't do what he thinks is right, he's terrifying. But yet, he has flowers in his hair.

"I have to go see my mother," He breaks the intimacy and stands gracefully onto two feet, "She and I have to discuss important matters over breakfast." He gazes down at the boy still lying in the grass. Luke's eyes are so calm and almost peaceful whenever the sun makes them sparkle, he feels something in his chest, a yearning of sorts. He wants to stay.

"Will you be back?" Luke listens to the footsteps carrying off towards the gate and there's a short chuckle, "Of course, as long as the flowers bloom, I will be back." He proclaims his statement into the air and his words make Luke peer his head up from the grass to look at the prince and smile brightly.

Just as the boy goes to the gate, he pipes up, "Michael," It's the first time he says his name without the word prince accompanied in front of it, the name sounding much less intimidating when it's by itself. The head of dirty blonde fringe peers towards him from the other side of the garden and the blonde laughs, holding a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide it, as his other one points to his own head for a reference.

The prince blushes, embarrassed at the fact he still had the flowers in his hair, it's the first time he sees the older boy get flustered and he looks even less scarier as he shyly and delicately works the tangled flower crown out of his hair and petals fall off his clothing to the ground. But instead of leaving the dainty bunched up flowers there, he takes them with him.

-

It's not until the very next day, after five long but productive hours of planting and recording the data in his book, when Luke has another chance at seeing his lover when he's given the task of fixing up a couple vases for centerpieces at tonight's feast for visiting royalty they're hoping to recruit as allies for the war. It's an important dinner and Luke's given a very strict lecture on what he can and cannot do while in the castle unadvised. He can't wander, can't open doors, can't touch anything that's not his, but he can eat something from the castle's kitchen.

He's been rearranging a bouquet of white roses, stargazer lilies, and orchids in the mix the moment a very unexcited Michael walks into the dining hall.

A maid blushes as she polishes the new fine china until she can see her reflection, her eyes glance up to the official as the sound of the orchestra practicing muffles as background noise. Michael's dressed in his princely clothes, way too expensive to even fathom Luke wearing let alone buying.

"Are those from the garden?" He's approaching him with bright eyes, intrigued at the arrangement set up for them, Luke's hands tweak the position of an orchid before smiling, "Freshly picked, your grace." He notes the need to address him authoritatively since someone else is here. The maid glances at the closeness of the two with narrow eyes, they're not just beside each other, the prince has a hand on the flower boy's side.

"I'd like a vase of these in my room as well, by tomorrow morning." He demands it softly and gets the blonde to flush pink in his cheeks and shyly nod, "Of course, your majesty." Luke has to send a not so subtle glance to the maid across the table, hinting at Michael to tone down the affection. The prince smirks and backs away as a form of correction. He didn't notice they weren't alone.

He clears his throat, "Perfect, um, I have to go greet the visitors so you two need to hurry, yeah? Fifteen minutes." He backs away after clasping his hands together and heading back towards the door he came through. A suspicious shifty eyed stare burns into Luke the second the door shuts and it's just him and the maid, he avoids any form of eye contact and calls his job done when he's made the flowers look flawless.

He admires his work before scurrying towards his work station in the garden, rushing down the busy hallways to get to where he needs to be, far away conversations echoing from somewhere in the castle, he can decipher that Michael's speaking and soon his mother is too, then an unknown man starts talking, a visitor.

Before he manages to reach his garden a hand tugs him into a random room, the blonde yelps and squeaks but he's too weak to writhe his way out of the grip on his wrist and he nearly jumps out of his skin when Ashton is standing in front of him. They're in a small cooped up library, not the official one in the castle, this must be Ashton's study. A dark oak desk piled high with papers and ink along with books upon books surrounding it.

"You kissed Michael." He disses any form of greeting and slides right into his statement with a strict tone, Luke immediately feels his stomach drop.

"I-I-"

"You put flowers in his hair, you made him smile, he even gave me a raise, what the bloody hell are you doing?" Ashton's voice barks at him and if Luke was strong and not a scared fragile being he would've tried to say something but all he does is silently gulp and blink like a lost deer. The tutor continues, "You know, I thought I saw something between you two but I never imagined you and the prince rendezvousing in the castle's private garden."

Luke parts his lips, processing all of the comments thrown at him and then, he replies, "Please don't tell anyone." There's nothing worse than the kingdom finding out the royal prince is sneaking kisses with a lower class commoner who plants flowers for a living. He'd be scrutinized and bashed for this. If the king finds out, Michael's bound to get screamed at.

"You fucking bet I won't, if something like this spreads through the kingdom he'll trace the rumor back to me, and you know what that means? The guillotine. And I, for one, prefer my head to be attached to my body." Ashton's tone seethes and his finger goes to accuse Luke one more time, "Just be more subtle, anyone can walk into the garden and see you two."

"Um," The boy struggles to come up with a response, he takes a step back, "Okay." He lets the heels of his feet thump against the door to tell him he can't move backwards any more. Luke's heart lurches out of his chest and he feels for the doorknob before rushing out of the room to go back to work.

-

Michael is pissed. Full on livid by the time supper is finished and he's given the choice to either go upstairs or stay downstairs and listen to his mum lecture him about proper etiquette. He's sauntering up to his room in no time. More than tired and beyond exhausted when he flings the heavy door open and tosses his stupid crown onto the foot of his bed before removing all of the way too tight clothes he had politely put on because of his mother's request.

He can't finish undressing completely, his slacks and button down still on as he defeatedly lands on his silk bed covers and all but gracefully slips himself under their warmth.

The dinner went well. He's not mad at the fact they have a higher chance at gaining a very trustful ally from the Southern Kingdom, the royal Hood family had to be one of the happiest officials at their supper yet. All smiles, all joyous, their son was Michael's age and even he seemed to be happy about being in their castle. They weren't a very wealthy family, but they ruled a huge amount of territory and they trained their army expertly. So the very helpful exchange of money for some armies was all too easy.

Michael's dad seemed a bit underwhelmed with their appearances though, no jewels, no pearls, and definitely no diamonds were on display when they walked in. Their eldest offspring, Mali was wearing finely spun silk in a very simplistic dress with a slit that exposed her leg up to mid thigh, she had decor on her skin, marks and symbols that no one in the kingdoms ever seen, she explained how some of them mean royalty or bring good luck, Michael thought it was trashy but his parents were fascinated. Calum, the youngest of the two siblings, was very quiet but could talk if you initiated conversation. He was funny but lacked the spice that Michael likes in people. He talked about how he studies poetry in his free time and prefers reading whenever he has the chance. Michael's mind instantly thought of Ashton.

Three knocks on the door draw him out of his thoughts, a timid, "Your majesty?" Peeps through the walls and he groans, "What?" His head comes up with the worst case scenario- his parents want to talk to him.

"Luke has flowers for you, your grace, can he enter?" She's a timid housemaid, the shyest one so far and he probably scared her shitless with his tone but the mention of Luke makes him relax, "Yeah, he's allowed in."

The door clicks, and a strip of light breaks into his grand bedroom. He's all but angry when a head of recognizable blonde hair peeks into his room and then steps inside with a vase of flowers that he just remembered he requested. A creak of the door shutting lets them know they're alone.

"Shouldn't you be home?" He tilts his head in confusion as the blonde places the flowers neatly on top of the prince's nightstand, the petals all dewy from just being spritzed with water but the fresh scent already wafts through the room.

"Late shift." Is all Luke replies with, his hands smooth over the silk before he meets a strong set of emerald eyes, "Your mum wants me to finish my studies before I go. So she can see the work I'm doing."

The prince gives a curt but slow nod, then he grins, "You can finish your studies up here." He's not exactly proud of how quickly he chimes in to say that, he just gets bored a lot. No one in this castle is exactly friendly with him and his parents don't let him stay in one place for long before he's shooed off to do something by himself again.

"Oh, I don't know if I should, someone can see me in here." He nervously backs away with both hands clasped in front of him to try and calm his nerves. He's trying to listen to Ashton's advice and keep their acquaintances on the down-low.

"Ah," The prince makes a tone of clarity, "Ashton talked to you."

"He did." The blonde blushes, "Did he tell you the same thing?" His feet rock back and forth on the expensive wood floor.

"No, I told him to tell you." His words make the blonde go quiet, his face no longer joking but serious, he meant it. To dissipate the dark mood he continues, "I'm not allowed to do anything like this, they want to go through arranged marriage for me. You and I making out has to be strictly between us, and Ashton now but still, no one else."

It's valid and honest which Luke respects and he sort of saw this coming because of course the world lets fate do it's thing where he has a chance to kiss the prince and gain a relationship past being his servant in the garden, and then it just flips it upside down and just shoves it up his ass to remind him that it's nothing but an affair. An undercover rendezvous between two star-crossed lovers. Like Romeo and Juliet, minus the death.

"Who would they marry you to?" Luke's not sure if there's another openly gay prince besides Michael, and setting him up with a woman is just crude and disrespectful to his preferences.

"Hell if I know, probably some rich asshole who'll feed off my wealth." His hand comes off the bed to ruffle through his dark blonde fringe, "Probably Calum, he visited today, I heard he's bisexual."

"I didn't get to see him, I only saw the king and queen. From the south, right?" Luke's body finds a comfy spot on the bed without asking and considering Michael never spoke up to scold him, he probably allowed it. Those gentle blue eyes yearn to meet Michael's but he stares at his lap, "Is he cute?" The tone of his voice deflates the moment he asks it and Michael can just hear the blonde get jealous.

"Considering he doesn't look like you, I'm gonna have to say no." The prince sits up under his silk covers and watches the smug grin creep onto Luke's face at the same time he blushes, "He likes books and poetic bullshit, I think I'm gonna invite him to my tutoring with Ashton tomorrow."

"They're staying overnight?" Luke's hand finds comfort in reaching out to interlace it with Michael's, he has chunky rings on his fingers, pure craftsmanship and wealth shining on his hands.

"All week, they traveled overseas I don't want them coming all this way just for one dinner to sign a document." He acts appalled at the idea of such a thing happening, "They're interested to see our culture and I'm not gonna stop them from seeing our kingdom." While Michael's lips explain his reasoning, Luke's lips purse in a content focus, trained in on what he was rambling about.

"I can work on my studies up here." He pipes up the statement out of nowhere and actually interrupts Michael in doing so and if it were any random commoner there would've been a scowl and clenched jaw sent his way but Michael only blinks in bewilderment and then settles, a deep breath or two, then nods.

"Go on, grab your things, I need to clear space for you anyway." He gazes at his own study desk that is cluttered with spilled ink, numerous letters he has to read, and parchment paper to write on. He's getting up as he says these things and a very excited Luke pops up and makes his way back to his station to grab what he needs and to lock up the gate.

Upon his arrival, Michael decides to run into his closet and take off whatever things he doesn't need for bed, Luke's bound to stay late. He writes about his flowers and his progress like he depends on such a task because he's so passionate about it.

He slips the rings he was wearing into a drawer and locks it, carefully places his crown back onto it's stand in a glass case, and puts the dried out flower crown Luke gave him in a glass case too. It's withered and all the flowers lost their bright colors, but he cherishes it nonetheless.

He's unbuttoning his dress shirt when the door opens and Luke is at the door with a journal in his hands practically gripping it for dear life when he sees Michael with his shirt unbuttoned, in the process of slipping it off.

"I'm sorry, no one was at the door, I didn't knock, I'm so sorry." He turns around and faces the wall so he's not awkwardly staring at Michael who's laughing at him right now, his embarrassment somehow funny to the boy that snorts, "Don't apologize, you're fine." His torso is strong and Luke's almost sure he's wound up in trouble when Michael walks closer to him.

He can't see him. He can only hear the footsteps that carry closer until the familiar body heat is standing right behind him. Towering, shadowing light from over the blonde who does nothing except breathe, all he can do is breathe.

"Was there no one to guide you to my room?" He's speaking just above his ear, his cheek brushes against Luke's hair and his reply gets lost in the back of his throat, only shaking his head. He can tell he's still pink in his cheeks.

"They're probably helping the visitors feel comfortable in their rooms." He makes a move and snakes a strong hand around the blonde's side so he can lift up the thin white fabric and place an open hand against his hip, "They left me alone with you." His body steers the boy to step forward, Luke's breathing caught in his throat, a sharp gasp is all that comes out when he's pressed into the door with Michael behind him.

Before he can respond the prince goes for his neck and bites at the skin, merely having fun with their limited time together by turning his skin red and purple. Such rich, bold colors to be on such an alabaster, faint body. He's not hearing any words, only gasps and moans, the blonde keeps biting his own bottom lip and it drives Michael mad. Surely, he knows he's doing it.

They make out against the door for thirty minutes, before Luke speaks up about how he truly needs to work, then writes at the prince's desk, meanwhile Michael just admires him from his bed, conversing over what a dick his dad is and how he can't believe the people in the village compare him to his father. Luke only slightly agrees.

-

The morning after their midnight discussion, Michael is awoken by his mum talking outside his door, her loud authoritative voice is being used so he knows either she's yelling at his father or getting ready to yell at him. He instantly worries and checks the time, it's eight thirty am. He's late for breakfast.

He had been up talking to Luke and even though he left by nine he stayed up and just thought about Luke. His hair, his voice, his eyes, his laugh, one thing on top of the other piled onto his brain until he checked the time and slept with a certain pair of blue eyes on his mind.

"You get up right this second," She's in his room, breaking through the door and angrily storming up to his bed to scold him, "We have company waiting on you to start their meal and all you're doing is lying in bed, if it were you down there-" She huffs, "Just get dressed, brush your teeth, and don't be late. Five minutes." She points to the clock above his study and stomps out.

He never got ready so fast in his life, brushing his teeth and slightly tackling his hair in record speed as he paces down to the dining hall, a very abrupt entrance of him fixing the buttons on his shirt at the same time they stopped all conversation to see the boy fall into his seat and huff. Calum's to his left, and holds a very thick book in his hands, Mali is to his right, awaiting her meal by tapping her hand (also covered in the spiritual symbols) on the table impatiently.

The food is placed in front of them on individual plates, Michael's usual meal of waffles with strawberries and chocolate shavings makes Calum and Mali only devour their's in seconds, or maybe they're just starving.

"Michael, have you and Calum got to talking yesterday?" His mum is still giving him the cold shoulder but uses her one time of speaking to her son to hint at him and Calum somehow getting along. She probably wants them to get married. It's obvious.

"Not really." Michael flickers his gaze between his mum and the book Calum was reading after taking a few bites from his waffle.

"He thinks you're cute." Mali drinks her orange juice and laughs into her hand at the way her brother shoots a glare at her from two seats away, his whole face is burning red and it creeps down to his neck, "I never said that."

"Yes, you did, when we were going to our rooms you said that you liked his laugh and you thought he was cute." She has to laugh in between some phrases but overall she maintains composure up until Calum slams a hand on the table and tells her to shut up.

"The both of you, settle down." The mother of the siblings glares at them from across the table and it makes even Michael quiet down and he didn't even say anything, the two duck their heads and the brunette hides his face in his book.

He tries not to be obvious when he checks the time and realizes he has his tutoring session in fifteen minutes. He's gonna see Luke, his heart leaps and his stomach flips with excitement, he can't control the way his lips tweak up in a smile at that thought.

Honestly, he thinks Ashton's caught onto this whole 'oh, we should read in the garden' scheme because he completely allows Michael to zone out and admire his flower boy from afar, he even told him they could start a new book if this one isn't captivating enough. Michael never does, this book makes Ashton happy enough he can't bear to tear it away from him.

It's not like he hates reading, he's quite good at analyzing and pointing out allusions but put him in a vicinity with Luke and all of that disappears.

He swigs his water down to the bottom and reflexively turns at the sound of the door opening, a very cheerful smile on Ashton's pink lips when he sees Michael, his hand waves his book up to signify his reasoning on entering, "Ready for your lessons, your grace?"

The prince excuses himself from the table and joins the curly lad up at the doorway, "Calum," He thinks on the spot and pivots right before he can leave, the tension in the room has left and it's only anticipation that lingers. A head of brown curls pops up from his book to show wide caramel eyes and full lips. "Would you like to join us? Ashton's my literature tutor."

The smile that breaks onto that boy's face is lighting up the room and he timidly nods before shuffling onto his feet, book in hand, and catches up to the two leading him down the hallway.

"Calum reads?" Ashton makes small talk with Michael as they venture down the corridors, an awestruck brunette trailing close behind them, "It's all I've seen him do since he got here." Is Michael's reply, he's not making fun of the boy for reading so much but even his own mind gets sick of looking at pages for hours on end.

"Have you ever read _Pride And Prejudice_?" Ashton turns to face the shy prince with his hand showing the book's cover. Calum shakes his head, "At home we only read books that my mum thinks benefit me for ruling." He clutches his own heavy book to his chest, "She let me pick a couple storybooks to bring with me for our travels." He bites his lip at the same time Ashton nods intently.

"You know, I could give you some of my favorites, have you ever read _Of Mice And Men_?" Michael zones out at their next conversation because the garden gate is in his line of focus, the pristine white paint is crisp and clean, his lips purse as he unlocks the hatch and slides it open with a faint squeak of the hinges.

There's no one in the garden, not in the back, not by the tree, not even in Luke's little station for cleaning and supplies. His journals are gone and his flowers don't have any water drops over them.

"Where is he?" He asks the question to himself but Ashton heard it, and Calum probably did too. The worry that starts to poke at him and the faint paranoia that buries itself deep into his mind only has his eyes flickering from place to place.

"Do you always come out here?" The brown eyed boy observes the scenery with delicate fingertips stroking petals and parted lips, the prince hums a yes and situates himself under the usual tree he has called his own. The other prince smiles, "It's very lovely, we have a garden just like this at home."

Michael furrows his eyebrows. There is no other garden like this, because there is no other Luke to keep up with each and every flower that blooms, there is no rabbit the same as the ones that pounce through the bushes, nobody has Luke's garden, there is no other Luke who could do half as much as he has done.

"Chapter forty two." The book falls into his lap and he has to hold back any comment towards Calum's somewhat insulting statement, they all read along and the brunette actually exceeds Ashton's original expectations when they immerse themselves in a conversation on Mr. Darcy and some other things that interest the two of them.

It takes a prolonged hour of listening to book bullshit for the garden gate to quickly open and shut and for the relief to flood right through Michael's head at the sight of Luke meekly waving to him. He's disheveled and a little out of breath from his walk here, his smile is only half a grin along with a dimple before he disappears into his work station to wash his hands and start his day.

"Who's he?" The brunette is confused on the fact they let a stranger walk into the private garden but Ashton pipes up a fast, "No one, he tends to the flowers, just carry on." He purposely distracts him with a book at the same time Michael closes his. He nearly thought Luke left, that they were done for and maybe he was embarrassed.

They do as the tutor says and the book is back in their minds but the prince loses his focus when Luke reappears with berries in his hands and starts to do his daily feeding for the rabbits. He keeps his new journal at his side while the bunnies nibble on the cashews and lettuce he gave them he'd be writing and studying the flowers he had planted not too long ago.

"I'd like to do this tomorrow, too, if you don't mind." Calum is in his range of sight as he asks him the question, that's when he notices how Ashton is packing up his things as a sign that they've finished. This is one of their fastest sessions yet, solely based on the fact Calum tagged along and made the chapters go by in whirs of progress.

"Of course." He smiled at the brunette, lifting the mood in a way that creates a bigger smile on Calum's very rosy face. He's not unattractive, Michael thinks to himself, he's just not compatible with him.

"I can give you some books now if you want." Ashton is pointing behind him and he's probably gonna overdose on books by tonight if it's his tutor picking them. Calum nods, "I'll catch up but can Michael and I be alone for a bit?" He's hopeful he'll say yes and when he does they're left in their area of the garden. Closer than before, Calum's hands find Michael's knee and he instantly jolts to check if the blonde in the garden is watching this.

"Thank you for bringing me here," He whispers it to him, suddenly nervous all over again with the way he mumbles and fails to meet the piercing green eyes in front of him. Luke's across the garden and since it's much bigger now he's too far to hear what they're saying.

"Thank you for joining us," He reciprocates the feeling and hesitantly places a hand on their knee as well, "I'm not the biggest reader so I thought maybe you'd find it more fun."

"You know, my mum told me you'd be rude, I think she's wrong." Calum is leaning closer until his eyes hold details of gold and ebony that you can only see when you're so close to his face.

"It's how I was taught." Michael stays where he is, not moving any closer to set a boundary. His parents taught him to be ruthless and to show very little mercy. He's not gonna deny he's strict and terrifying to some people.

He feels a pair of lips on his and panics, eyes bulging wide to see Calum's face directly in front of his, his lips are fuller and he's not as gentle as Luke is whenever he kisses him. He freezes and his eyes shut to at least try and enjoy the kiss because if he pulls away that's just rude.

Calum pulls back and sits on his knees, he's smiling when he finally chooses to say something, "I'll see you at dinner." He scrambles to stand up and rushes out of the garden with a very awestruck Michael left to sit against the tree and reevaluate what just happened.

He watches the brunette skip down the stone path and disappear into the castle, once he's out of sight his eyes shift to see a very upset blonde boy gazing at him with the most disappointed stare he's ever seen. He saw it. He most definitely saw it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my wifi was down all last week so i didn't get to upload this earlier but i've had it ready for ages lol let me know what you thought in the comments pls :)


	3. sunflower

It's been four days. Ninety six hours passed by so agonizingly slow to the point Michael managed to spend way too much time with the visiting royalty to occupy himself but that didn't help him. Every time he looks at Calum he feels so guilty, because not only is Luke mad at him, but he also lead Calum on. He still is, and it's not right. He's not the prince of anyone's dreams and he truly thinks Calum has a much stronger connection with Ashton due to their interests but no, of course he continues to give him those big, brown heart eyes. 

It's the Hood family's final day in their new ally's kingdom and Calum is spending his day in Ashton's study reading and packing books that the tutor lets him keep. His own feet are planted firmly on his balcony, Luke has just arrived for work, chipper and lively with his daily breakfast that he shares with the rabbits. He's never seen someone engage with wild animals the way he has. Most people in this kingdom would've looked at the rabbits and thought they'd make a nice stew but he cares for them like they're his pets. 

The blonde's garden is blooming more than ever, it's bright and colorful with more than enough flowers to keep him busy, he's going through his routine of watering the roses when Michael decides to make himself known. 

"You can't ignore me forever." His voice shouts over the field and carries it's way to a very unamused blonde turning to look at him on his balcony. He stops his task to fold both arms over his chest and raise his eyebrows, letting the prince speak further. 

"He came onto me." His green eyes are dark and fiery, because Luke thinks he's so clever as he continues with his work and pretends not to hear him, he saw the vague eye roll even from so far in the distance and he grits his teeth until his jaw clenches, "Look at me when I speak to you." He sounds like he does with any other person below him, and it only makes the blonde resist him further. 

Michael tenses, "Oh, you little-" He stops himself and storms back into his room, pacing in anger as he pushes past his door and towards a very shocked maid waiting for him to ask something but he continues to storm out like she never was there. 

There had to be steam coming out of his ears when he steers down the edge of the hall and faces the long narrow space which leads straight to the garden, the glass door all iridescent and peaceful, it gives you a clear view of what's outside. Ashton is standing in his way by passing books to an extremely grateful Calum. 

"Your majesty, what's wrong?" He has to move out of the way to let him through. 

Michael shoves past him with a rough shoulder as he barks out a loud, "Not now, Ashton." That makes the brunette he's with part his lips to say something but the tutor shushes him. 

He swings open the glass door and stomps his way through the cobblestone path, infuriated the second he sees Luke in his sight. 

"I am royalty, you do not ignore me when I talk to you." He shouts the words into the entire field of flowers and the blonde is cowering all of a sudden, a plotted plant in his hands crashes to the ground and dirt sprawls it's way across the grass along with heavy shards of clay. 

"I should have you beheaded for disrespecting me, won't even listen to what I have to say, you're lucky you're not just any damn servant in this castle." His blood boils through him, the vein in his neck pops and he is face to face with a very petrified Luke. 

"I-"

"Did I say you could speak?" He snaps, quizzing the boy who hastily shakes his head as a no. He's not meeting his eyes, only flickers up to see them only to stare over his shoulder instead, he's too intimidating. 

"Look at me." He rasps.

Michael waits for their eyes to connect and grips the blonde's frail wrist to tug him closer, "Just because you mean something to me that does not give you the right to treat me as none other than the royal authority I am." He squeezes harder onto his wrist, Luke writhes and he's bumping his nose against his own from the close proximity. 

"Understood?" He seethes, flat out aggravated with the disrespect he had the audacity to use against him, it takes very little to make him angry. He takes after his father after all. Luke really shouldn't have tested him. 

"Mhm." The blonde blinks his wide eyes and finally gets a good look at Michael's face, he's taller than him and he's broad with eyes that devour Luke right then and there. He's feeding off of his fear like prey and his other hand goes to the side of Luke's face only to bring their lips together and meet in the middle, he moans into it, controlling the blonde's every move as he pushes him against the tree he's usually sitting at for tutoring. He can taste the strawberries and blueberries on his lips, he can smell the lavender in his hair, Luke is all his. Only he gets to be this close to him to taste him like this. 

"Y-Your h-h-highness." Luke has to gasp in between his words, his lips are red and Michael is biting the skin on his neck to leave his mark when he growls in response. He didn't get to kiss him for four days and he's not stopping anytime soon. He missed his skin, his lips, his touch, he missed it all for four days and it's back in his reach so he's savoring every waking moment of it. 

"Th-There's company." The blonde manages to get his attention and collapses against the tree when the prince lets go of his wrist and his cheek, he's shaking and the fact he's all flustered over the few kisses he got makes Michael pride himself even more. 

He pivots and comes face to face with Ashton, who's in the midst of trying to block Calum's view of everything that he sadly walked into. 

"You. . ." The brunette tries to wrap his head around this, "You kissed a commoner? They're not- He's not royal, you can't-" His hands go to the sides of his head and pulls at the curls. 

"You're not allowed to tell anyone." Ashton uses as strict a tone he can manage and Michael nods to second that, "No one can know." 

"Your mum said you were marrying me!" He points a finger into his own chest and groans, "He's a fucking commoner, that's. . .that's disgusting!" He says it and he watches the way Michael instantly straightens his posture, the slow furling of his fists as he hears the hiccup of an accidental sob break through Luke's lips. 

"The queen will find out and when she does, you're dead." He hisses it at the blonde who does nothing but blink away the tears that well in his eyes, his soft crystalline eyes that are so helpless right now. Ashton's still standing up for them, which is shocking since he despised the idea of them doing this whole secret affair thing since the moment he found out. 

"Did you really think that you and Luke were gonna get married? That's insane. No one will ever think of your kingdom as powerful if a commoner is your husband." 

Michael's body lunges forward and tries to get his hands on Calum but Ashton holds him back, he's not helping his anger, he only reels it up higher until he blows through the surface. 

"You tell my parents and I'll have you dead! I'm not afraid to kill you in front of the whole kingdom!" He gets a handful of Calum's dress shirt and tugs him from over Ashton's shoulder, "You won't be able to talk with no head on your body." He pushes him away and subsides at that. His whole body hums with anger and he steps back to see the fellow prince brush over his shirt and go quiet. He won. He's not afraid of Calum's powerless threats. He's the one with power here. On his land. His rules. 

-

Calum is a mouse by the end of the day, he's not as cowardly though, he just never speaks. Only hums or nods and shakes his head to things, along with the occasional shrug. Michael had to sit next to him during supper and he was not too excited when the brunette stares at him like he's nothing. As if his royalty isn't higher than his, much higher. As if he doesn't have a guillotine just waiting to be used in the cells downstairs. 

When they exit the castle and exchange farewells, Michael gives him a firmer shake than most for one last upper hand, but the maori only clenches his jaw and turns away. 

Michael's mum doesn't notice their bitterness and smiles as they leave, "We must visit them sometime soon, I'd love to see their culture." 

"I wouldn't." The redhead pivots as the main doors shut loudly, sending an echo through the vacant foyer, no one fights against his words as he heads for the garden, only his father interrupts his plans. 

"You have a letter from the Northern kingdom waiting for you, respond to it, now." He emphasizes the last word and makes his son stagger to a halt and slump, he was nearly just in the hallway when he has to leave for his room. "The garden can wait." His dad adds on to further irk his son to do as he's told, Michael huffs, steps away from the hallway, and goes to his room instead. 

It's colder in here, he doesn't spend much time in his chambers in anymore, and if he does, he's on the balcony, Luke's taken over his mind and soul, he coerces him to leave the isolated area and to breathe fresh air laced with the scent of roses, his aura is enrapturing, it holds you and takes you somewhere safe and welcoming. He's full of love and warmth like nothing else he's ever experienced. 

The study he works at hasn't been used much recently, he ignored a few letters that were placed on it for days now and only ever responded if it was important. So the Northern Kingdom writing to him is probably the scariest thing he's fathomed and of course it's actually happening. 

The red wax stamped with the crest of the North is easily ignored and he tears at the envelope in disinterest. The thick parchment falls into his palm and he unfolds it with unamused eyes. There's so much writing that it makes his brain fizzle out, they're just going on and on about how he'll regret this when they defeat his armies, how it'll embarrass him out of power, he barely makes it through the whole thing when he scoffs, tosses it loosely onto the counter and ponders what the hell they could be thinking. The North isn't strong, they're weak and lack soldiers. His allies outweigh theirs by miles and he has better weaponry and skill. They're screwed if he's being honest. 

As his eyes avert from the letter he just read he sees another one he has yet to read, it's bare, no envelope to keep it safe, and the handwriting is choppy calligraphy. A gentle daisy lacking a stem rests on the top corner for a paperweight and his eyes light up at who he thinks wrote it. 

He disregards the Northern letter and slips the small parchment into his hand, it's tough to read at first, the small space made Luke squeeze some letters closer together but he gets the gist. 

Dear Michael,  
I have to focus on my studies before anyone else starts to see our affair take place, please don't be upset, you need to focus on your work, too. Ashton's no longer allowed to be in my garden anymore by order of your mother, I'm so sorry. — Luke 

The letter is finished off with a messy and smudged heart and he groans in frustration then slams it back onto the desk to let out his anger. Luke's stuck by himself and so is he, they have to be apart but for how long? This note doesn't specify and he can't just ask Luke since he's going to pay attention to his work instead. 

It's unfair. It's bullshit, actually. Because he overrules this, he tells people what to do, not the other way around. Luke can't just barge in here drop a petty excuse of a farewell note on his desk then tip toe out in secret, no one's allowed in his room unless he says so. That's how this world fucking runs. Luke's not the royal figure, he is. He makes the rules here. He can decide whether or not they can be together in private. 

He pushes himself from his seat with such force that the legs squeak against the floor, his dress shoes carry him to his balcony and throws the doors open, the wind isn't settling and there's a few clouds littered in the sky, the sun brightly shining over the garden, he scans the premises. There's so much to look at, different flowers blooming in different ways, the rabbits that chase each other in the middle, the fountain showing it's beauty in the center of nature, and the trees sway along the sides. But no Luke. He's not outside, his station is shut and he's probably writing in there for privacy. 

Those emerald eyes watch the sun start to fade behind a cloud, dimming the setting for a moment, all the birds flap across the areas. Luke exits his station with three journals against his chest. He's in his own world, smiling and getting back into the swing of things with his laughs sometimes carrying up towards the prince's balcony. Why isn't he sad? He should be disappointed to be doing this, not peppy and full of joy. Michael slams his balcony doors shut and gets to work on his very vengeful letter back to the North. 

-

Ashton has taken off three days due to illness, so he's replaced by an elderly man with a pair of glasses and a balding grey head of (not much) hair. He takes too long to read out loud so Michael has a headache by the second session with him, nothing is cheering him up, he's cooped up in the castle all over again and the most fun he's had in the last three days was reorganizing the castle library- which is where his sessions have been moved to. 

The castle library differs from Ashton's study in the sense that the size and quantity of it all multiplies by tens if not twenties. There's towers of books and most of which are from decades and centuries before him. Most of them smell like dust and the binding is tattered at the corners. He hates it. 

They've finished Pride and Prejudice by now, and moved onto War & Peace. It sucks, according to Michael. 

And the worst part of it all is that he saw Luke, he literally walked right past him like he wasn't there and went over to help switch out the old flowers with new ones in a vase. They made eye contact, and then he left. 

-

Michael decides to let out some of his pent up anger in the form of violence, justifying his position as a royal figure, he orders a servant to pull someone from death row to center square and then tells his father he's gonna use the guillotine. He doesn't mind, in fact, he grins when he nods in approval. 

The prince rubs his palms together in undeniable excitement as he steadily treads for the front gates of the castle, two guards behind him marching in synch as he works up a smirk. There's hectic conversations happening in the heart of the kingdom, his body exits through the gate that slides shut quickly after, a crowd grows down every street that reaches this main focal point, the large wooden structure baring out and giving a wide range view to anyone within distance. 

The dingy bastard they picked out was middle-aged, his jaw marked with unruly stubble, grimy skin and dingy clothes, he has wild eyes that pop from his face and his teeth grit and curse at Michael when he starts up the platform. 

There's a wicker basket placed in front of the guillotine to catch his head, and the crowd starts to stir with palpable excitement and rallies up to yell at the man who deserved this when he's dropping down to get shoved through the gaping space where his neck has to meet the metal. 

They cuff this man's hands behind his back and he's yelling nonsense on how he's innocent, he snaps at the prince and screams that he didn't mean to do it. And he breaks the rope holding the sharp metal at the top so it slides down in one swift movement, the man's chaotic rambling stopping instantly and the crowd is going off in celebration, a sick, twisted happiness in the crowd as Michael smirks and eyes the people closest to him on the ground. 

There's movement to his left and he sees the crowd shuffle and make room for someone to weave through the hundreds of people in their way. A head peers up through the crowd and Michael's stomach knots and his breathing stills the moment crystalline blue eyes find his in such a vast amount of people. 

The blonde rolls his eyes at him, full on shoves his shoulder at someone in his way and his body moves faster, he slips through the castle gate and Michael rushes after him, the guards asking what's wrong as he storms his way down the long path of the bridge to the castle. 

"I can handle this myself, just go." He orders the guards to leave and his tone cuts into the air at the same time it echoes into the foyer, they're inside now but Luke's fast, and easily avoids him by gaining a faster speed in his step. 

They steer themselves down a hallway and the blonde's head twists to see if he's any closer and Michael is, he's starting to get angrier and Luke learned the hard way not to do that but it doesn't stop him from turning down his hallway and works up every fiber in his being to get out into the garden. Just lock the gate behind him even though he'll just wound up pissing him off even more.

"Luke!" Michael finally gets his wrist in his hand after they are out in the garden, he tugs his body forward and uses the gate to his advantage by pressing him against it so he's trapped between the door and Michael's much stronger and taller body. 

"Stop ignoring me." He hisses it at the boy, watching the way Luke juts his head back and shakes it in disbelief. 

"I should be telling you the same thing, asshole." He swears at him without thinking of his high title and Michael's jaw locks, his eyes train on his blue ones. They're standing silently, a bird flutters by and the wind whirls it's way through the little space between them.

"I never ignored you." The prince shockingly looks past the vulgar language and strings his eyebrows together in confusion, "You're the one who told me you need to focus on your studies and distanced yourself from me." He repositions his hand so it's no longer trapping Luke's wrist and instead jabs into his chest to blame. 

An even more dumbfounded look crosses the blonde's features, "What are you talking about? You told me to leave you alone, you said Calum was right about me and that if I tried to talk to you again, you'd have me killed." Those blue eyes scan the prince's face to try and see if that spikes any memory of what he just said. But he stays perplexed, starting to loosen from his once tense features as reality begins to dawn on him. 

"I never said that." He backs away from the gate and gives him some room to breathe, "Who told you that?" 

Luke groans in frustration at all the awkwardness with this, he ruffles his blonde hair and heads for his work station, a well past confused and now full on puzzled Michael in tow, his hands swing the door open and for the first time in his life, Michael is seeing what Luke spends most of his days working in, a cozy station with very little standing room as his desk stays to the very far right and his shelves seem to be stacked with mason jars of seeds, different soils, and other things he may need. 

Luke slides the drawer to his study open and hands the letter to him with an aggravated huff of un-amusement, there's an instant connection Michael sees in the calligraphy, choppy and squished, he definitely didn't write this. He was trained to write well, he doesn't even do half as bad as this. 

He reads it anyway. 

Dear Luke,  
I have no desire for you anymore. We cannot be seen together, or associated with one another, you are not who my family needs. I need an actual royal significant other such as Calum, not a commoner. If you so much as look towards me you will face consequences. -Yours Truly, Michael

"Who gave you this?" He fumes with anger but not towards Luke this time, it's directed towards the anonymous person who tried to mess with them, they share looks of tension and the air around them sends chills up the blonde's spine, or maybe that was just from Michael's interrogative features. 

"I. . .I can't tell you that." He panics and backs up until his butt thumps against his desk and he holds onto the wood behind him for dear life, knuckles burning white, he can't throw someone under the bus like that. He doubts the person who gave him the letter was the source for actually writing it. 

"You can and you will. It's a royal order." Michael uses his power to his advantage, his forehead creases in concentration, his lips purse and he can see the way Luke contemplates answering. 

"Ashton gave it to me." He rushed through the sentence and Michael left without another word. Only cursing under his breath at the same time he slammed the door shut, leaving a stunned blonde in the corner. 

-

There's nothing but serenity in the castle, a joyous undertone that slips into the mood as well as the aftermath of a happy visiting royal family makes everyone else stay in a good mood. 

That peace is broken when there's a loud slamming sound followed by a shriek as Ashton comes through the foyer with Michael holding him in a headlock while simultaneously dragging him through the front door and starts yelling instructions to reset the guillotine. 

"I didn't do it! I swear it's not my fault, don't kill me!" Ashton is squirming and although he's older than Michael by a couple years, the prince has three inches of height on him and a stronger build. His arm hikes the tutor tighter into his grip and there's guards at the ready leading him towards the front gate that's slowly sliding up. 

"Y-Your grace!" The recognizable voice has him gritting his teeth and turning around, Luke is bolting for him, just barely out the door and he holds a paper in his hands but he's crinkled it a little from clenching his fists to run. 

"I didn't do it, I didn't, I don't wanna die." He reaches the stage of wooden planks and a glistening slate of metal raised high in between two heavy beams. 

The townsfolk are currently starting to grow, the commoners rushing so they don't miss it as he hears a woman shriek at her husband to hurry up and get the children out of bed. 

Three guards keep Luke on the ground while the prince starts up the steps of the platform, his helplessness in this situation multiplies when he struggles to get past the tall bulky men who live and breathe protecting royalty. Ashton's hands are getting cuffed behind him and his head is locked into the board. 

One of the workers hands him the axe used to chop the rope and send the metal down and now Luke is panicking, his heart is lurching through his chest as he hears Ashton start to scream and struggle, he can feel the guilt crawl up his spine and constrict his throat, he's the reason Ashton is about to die. It's his fault. He's about to cost someone their own innocent life. The people around them rally and roar in excitement, his own stomach knots and he can't will himself to look away from the scene. He needs to do something. This isn't right. 

"Michael!" 

He shouts it, hell, he screams it without thinking or second guessing what he's saying because Michael reeled back to swing and Luke's whole body went into overdrive so it just slipped out in front of the hundreds of people surrounding them. His chest rises and falls as he gets the crowds attention and more importantly, the prince's. 

He's allowed to call him by his first name but not in public, not anywhere except in private. No one in their right mind is even allowed to call him by just Michael. Only his parents. Not a random commoner who none of these people have ever seen until now. He just screwed up. He can see it by the way Michael is looking over his shoulder with such an alarming stare that even he seems scared of what Luke just did. 

He motions at the blonde with one finger that curls to tell him silently to get the fuck up here and tell him whats so important that he had to reveal so much shit to the people around them. A guard slides to his left and Luke has to stare directly at the ground to avoid any sort of glare from anyone. 

He creaks up the four stairs and gently raises his head to stare at Michael- prince Michael, your highness, your grace, your majesty. Not Michael. Not right now. 

His hand holds out the paper that's now crushed and crinkled. His face stays close so he doesn't see the eyes burning into him as he whispers to the dirty blonde, "I found this, it's the same handwriting as the notes." He feels the paper brush off of his fingertips and his whole body tenses as Michael scans over it, he explains more while he's reading, "Calum wrote it, it wasn't Ashton. He doesn't even know calligraphy, trust me, I've seen his handwriting." 

The curly haired boy sniffles from the guillotine and he's been crying this whole time and yet they both just noticed. 

Michael studies the writing for a minute longer, then nods his head towards Ashton, "Let him go, he's innocent." There's a sigh of relief and metal clicking before the tutor is standing back on two feet, guided off the platform with a mouthed thank you at Luke. 

"Come on," Michael roughly holds Luke by the bicep, handling him like a doll as he tugs him down the steps, "Let me teach you some manners." 

-

Michael is fueled by anger, it's practically surging through his veins by the time he swings open his bedroom door, it's been cleaned since the last time he saw it, it's spotless and his work desk is organized significantly. There's a bunch of flower petals spread among the bed and Luke feels his body get thrown into the silk sheets. 

"I did all of this for you," Michael has to pin the blonde down and his whole body is merciless against his power, those desperate blue eyes take in the set up, red rose petals. "And what do you do? You forget who I actually am." 

He locks the blonde beneath him by putting his thighs on each side of his waist, Luke is dumbfounded at his statement. Because he didn't forget who he was, he just let his first name slip after calling him by it so casually for so long. They've never been in public together. The stakes were high and he almost killed an innocent person he acted involuntarily, he couldn't help it. 

Michael's hand grabs Luke by the jaw tight enough for him to take control but loose enough for it to only hurt a little. He turns the boy's head so his left cheek falls into the cool sheets that are so soft and pure against his skin. 

There's rustling and lips hang over his ear to speak, Michael's other hand holds him down by the waist. A deep breath fans across the nape of his neck and his skin breaks into goosebumps. Michael's teeth bite down on his ear, only letting go to speak. 

"I am royalty, and you, Luke, you have to do as I say." His words weave through the blonde's mind and replay over and over until he feels his lips rake over his neck, biting and kissing at the fair skin until it bruises. He can feel the impact this has on Michael, the tent in his pants that is definitely not small. His mind starts thinking about that instead, about where this is going. 

"Michael, how-" 

"Did I say you could call me that?" His tone is serious but deep down it's playful, just something to push Luke's buttons even more. Speaking of buttons, his were being undone and his shirt is off of his body in seconds. Michael's crown is placed graciously on his head and reminds Luke of what he should be calling him. 

"Your grace." He corrects himself, the quaint nod in response gives him praise over doing something right and Michael releases his hold on his jaw so the blonde finally faces him and the look on the prince's face is priceless. A filthy smirk on his lips as he raises his eyebrows to irk him to continue. 

"How far is this going?" 

They pause for so long that Luke feels like he just ruined the mood, the prince is still sitting on his thighs and he's studying Luke from head to waist. This is the first time he's seen Luke shirtless and his skin is so smooth with soft definitions in his torso, collarbones that prod out and make their appearance prominently. His arms are weak but not to the point they're twigs, Michael's just broader, taller, and built to have muscle unlike Luke's delicate figure. 

"Are you a virgin, Luke?" The way he says it is like it's a joke, something curious in his voice that makes the spotlight blare way too obnoxiously over the blonde to the point he gets clammy. 

"No." He rushes it out, "I've. . .I've had sex before. Just not. . .not recently." 

Michael smirks wider and the amount of fear that presents itself inside of Luke barrels through him to reveal it's appearance. He can feel the burning stare of those forest green eyes intently jarring into his body, he just wants him to say something. But he's contemplating how far they should go after hearing him say that. 

"I'm enraptured by you, Luke." He finally manages to answer his question and slips the crown off of his head. 

When he finishes his sentence the heavy crown is falling onto the blonde's head and he instantly parts his lips to interject, "You can't-" 

"Oh, but I can." The prince admires the way a crown looks on Luke, how the size of it is just a tad too big so it's crooked, the way it makes Luke's hair flatten and go astray under it's weight, there's a rose petal tangled in his blonde hair too, and it just makes his whole body hum with beauty. 

"I'm not a prince." Luke lifts a hand up to take it off, this is a prince's crown, even more than that, it's a royal piece of jewelry that only Michael is destined to wear. It was custom fit, made for him, not Luke. The dingy garden boy who feeds bunnies and waters daisies for a living. 

He feels a stronger hand push his down onto the mattress, Michael leans down and locks their lips in one of the most passionate kisses he's shared with him yet. There's a new feeling to it, a foreign buzz between them that tingles against his lips and he knows he might be imagining it but it's so present and unbelievably prominent that even when he pulls away it lingers. 

"You are to me." He connects their lips and it's like he's on fire, a match just sparked into a flame whenever he touches him it grows and it's fueled by their kissing. He's still insanely shocked by him saying that, calling him royalty even though he's the furthest thing from that. He's just one level above the worst in this hierarchy and everybody knows that. He's lucky enough to have a house at this point. 

Michael kisses him softer than the ones from earlier, this one is slow and barely felt as he grazes over his lips. "My prince." 

Luke grins up at him, an undeniable blush across his cheeks. 

He cups Michael's jaw and whispers back, "My prince."


End file.
